The Perfect Gift
by a. loquita
Summary: What to get the man who has everything – including property on the moon, a Ferrari, and anything else in the known universe – for his birthday? (Castle/Beckett)


Title: The Perfect Gift  
Spoilers/Warnings: None. But assumes events in early S5 have already taken place.  
Pairing: Castle/Beckett  
A/N: Inspired by a silly conversation about the actual book that Beckett purchases in this fic. Also, this is kind of a sequel to "Unwrapped" but reading the other fic is not necessary to understand what is going on here. Special thanks to supplyship for her beta work.

* * *

_Birthday gift. Birthday gift. Birthday gift._

Oh dear god. It's been running through Kate's head all day despite her best efforts to push it aside. It interrupted her while filling out requisition forms this morning, and then later it nagged her when she had to brief the task force down in robbery just after lunch, and now it's there again. She's supposed to be following the report she's reading but her mind is determined instead to gnaw on her latest conundrum: what to get the man who has everything — including property on the moon, a Ferrari, and anything else in the known universe — for his birthday?

Richard Castle, the very definition of difficult to buy for.

Kate knows that she could just tie herself up in nothing but a big red bow and he'd be happy. But it's his first birthday celebration since they've started being an "official couple" or whatever they are calling it. And she feels the need to mark the occasion by having something in an actual box with actual wrapping paper covering it to give to him. But what?

Kate drops the report on her desk with a sigh. Really. He's distracting enough when he's actually here; it'd be nice if her mind would allow her to concentrate on work when he's not around.

What she needs is something… personal. Something fun, but thoughtful, and maybe a hint romantic. Hmm. Then suddenly, Kate remembers the Valentine's gift he gave her when they were in the very early stages of their relationship. She grabs her jacket and tells Espo and Ryan that she'll be back in an hour.

* * *

A couple of blocks down Kate enters the bookstore and allows her eyes to adjust from the bright sunny daylight. Of course Castle already owns more books than he could ever possibly read in a lifetime. Kate deliberates, but she's not going to talk herself out of this. This seems right.

Books have always been their connection, even long before Castle knew. Back when she was just another young lady standing in line to get his autograph on his latest bestseller. He hadn't even looked up at her as he scribbled the Sharpie across the front. Years ago, about three cases into him following her around, she hid that signed book on the top shelf in the back of her closet. But since they started sleeping together, she's been thinking about getting it out again.

And then there's there here and now, and what Kate thinks of as "their books" whenever she sees the _Nikki Heats_lined up on the shelves over in the mystery section of the bookstore. Their books, their connection, their thing.

Kate wanders toward the back of the store. A pimpled teenager in a smock asks if she needs help finding something, but she shakes her head no. She'll wander for a bit, just soak it in, and hope that the perfect gift speaks to her. Maybe something classic? Or something he's once quoted from to her? She can't remember if he's ever used poetry in bed? Probably not. She'd surely remember laughing at him if he'd tried.

She turns a corner and right on the end is a brightly illustrated front cover and that, along with the title of the book, causes her to snort a laugh. She can't help it. It's just so…

Somewhere out of the recesses of memory floats a conversation they'd once had. One where he claimed that she'd never survive in the woods alone, and he'd offered to be her big, handsome, lumberjack rescuing her from wolves and bears—

_"And then I'd take you to my little cabin where we could—"_

"Castle." She gives him a glare. "Don't you dare finish that statement."

"I'm just saying. Camping in the woods can be fun."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me, Castle. I know how to light fires."

He got that look. The one where he had no idea if she's purposely trying for innuendo or it's just a happy accident. Back then it was so easy to play with him, to make him thoroughly undone by her. Kate always wondered if that power she held over him would end if they ever got together. She's so very happy to find that it hasn't.

Kate picks up the book from the shelf and heads toward the registers.

* * *

The birthday candles have all been blown out, the gifts from Martha and Alexis unwrapped and oohed and aahed over, and the champagne and cake were almost gone. Mother and daughter have gone to bed and it's just her and Castle alone. He turns to look at her. She knows, in that moment, she wasn't far off with "nothing but a bow" idea. It's clearly written in his expression of expectation.

She laughs.

"What?"

"I was saving your gift for when we were finally alone, but I think that might have given you a false impression."

"Look, Kate, I don't know if I was clear enough before. You really don't have to actually get me something to make me happy. Instead something for yourself — in black lace, very skimpy, and see-through — is all I need for this to be a perfect birthday."

"You were clear."

He wags an eyebrow at her. "Or red, I'm not particular."

"Later. First I have this for you."

He looks genuinely surprised when she produces an actual gift. His tone drops to serious. "I meant it, you really didn't have to—"

"I know that. But trust me." She hands it over and picks up the flute again to finish off her remaining champagne.

He pulls the paper off and opens the top of the box. The first item wrapped in tissue paper is unrolled slowly. Kate can't help but smile; he was probably the kind of kid that liked to guess his Christmas gifts before opening. No wait, scratch that. _Still_is that kind of kid.

"Um, thanks," Castle says when he sees what it is, but she knows that he's a little puzzled. It's just a simple piece of paper confirming reservations at a secluded cabin in the woods next weekend.

"Open the next thing."

He pulls the tissue off. When he sees the cover of the book and the title "Sex in a Tent: A Wild Couple's Guide to Getting Naughty in Nature," he laughs.

She leans into his ear. "Want to see if you and I could write an even better book on the subject together?"


End file.
